Electronic book host

There being
nothing else to do we made ourselves comfortable along side the Belgian
Lion Cafe in the southern edge of Louvain, and for hours we watched the
advance guard sliding down the road through a fog of white dust.
Each time a break came in the weaving gray lines we fancied this surely
was all. All? What we saw there was a puny dribbling stream compared
with the torrent that was coming. The crest of that living tidal wave
was still two days and many miles to the rearward. We had seen the head
and a little of the neck. The swollen body of the myriad-legged gray
centipede was as yet far behind.
As we sat in chairs tilted against the wall and watched, we witnessed an
interesting little side play. At the first coming of the German
skirmishers the people of this quarter of the town had seemed stupefied
with amazement and astonishment. Most of them, it subsequently
developed, had believed right up to the last minute that the forts of
Liege still held out and that the Germans had not yet passed the
gateways of their country, many kilometers to the eastward.


Pages:
76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100